The Good Fight
by wordsmithsonian
Summary: Hermione frets over Ron's next assignment, but all good rows must come to an end, especially when Ron states his case very persuasively.  Rating for sex and language. R/Hr


**This was my contribution the the Ron and Hermione smutfest. Special thanks to my immeasurably awesome Beta, urbanmama1!**

**I am not J. K. Rowling and I do not own the Harry Potter series or any characters therein.**

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><p>The door slammed shut behind him, quivering on its hinges as he stalked past, heading straight for the bedroom. Hermione struggled not to react, managing to confine the evidence of her fury to turning the pages of her book in sharp, crisp movements. The crackling of paper soothed her, helping her calm down a bit before she had to face him again.<p>

It had not been a terrible row, really, but it had gone on far longer than it should have, bleeding over from one day to the next. Three days in now, and they had barely spoken.

Hermione had tried to bury herself in her work, tasked with overhauling the largest Wizarding Library in the UK. She could lose herself there, surrounded by endless rows of books, composing lists and organizing information. Well, she could very nearly lose herself, anyway. He was always there, clogging up the corners of her mind with words and images, fears and desires.

She could hear him flinging himself about their bedroom now, in typical dramatic fashion. He was so… insufferably righteous in his indignation. It absolutely made her hair stand on end.

Well, he could very well fling himself into the next county, for all the good it was doing him. She had no intention of backing down from her position on the matter. It was simply too important.

Another slamming door and heavy footsteps stomping their way to the kitchen. She would have felt bad for their downstairs neighbors if they hadn't enchanted the flat for soundproofing.

She didn't need the sound of his footsteps approaching, she could feel him the moment he entered the sitting room, a sudden increase in heat against her skin like the sun warming her face.

She glanced up at him casually, her fingers poised to turn the page. He would get no reaction from her with his childish behavior.

He stood leaning barefoot against the doorjamb, shirt unbuttoned with tails dangling outside of his trousers, his tie loose and tossed over his shoulder. He was rotating an apple in one large hand as he looked at her, a huge bite of it already pushing out his cheek on one side. They stared at one another as he chewed in bitter silence, neither of them backing down or offering a hint of compromise.

He swallowed angrily, fingers tightening around the doomed fruit as he straightened and took a step closer.

"I had a meeting with Williamson and Kingsley this afternoon."

His words were spoken casually, as though they had been speaking normally to one another all evening. She stiffened, closing her book with a snap as she felt her fingers begin to tear the pages. She suddenly felt as though she was standing on a frozen river, and his next words were poised to smash the ice beneath her feet.

He began to raise the apple to his mouth, pausing to speak before taking another bite.

"I'm set to leave with Harry tomorrow morning. We'll send owls when we have the clear. It could be a few days before you hear from us."

The sound of his teeth ripping into the apple scraped down her spine like nails on a chalkboard, her mind so entirely enveloped in rage that she couldn't seem to remember how to put words together into a coherent sentence. They all rushed to the surface at once, jumbled and jostling and fighting to be heard.

Fear and fury fought for dominance deep inside of her while the seemingly limitless possibilities flooded her mind, each one more horrible than the last.

Her book thumped against the wooden floorboards as she stood to face him, her hands clenched tightly as if they could catch hold of her thundering dismay.

"No. Absolutely not."

Ginger eyebrows climbed up his forehead as he tossed the apple from palm to palm, the hard slap against his flesh betraying his agitation.

"Are you forbidding me to go, then?"

The words hung in the air as if he had pinned each one there with a poisonous dart, dangling between them with sickening significance. She felt her jaw set, chin rising as she absorbed his challenge, reacting the only way she knew how.

"What if I am?"

Now his eyebrows lowered, glowering at her as he caught the apple one last time, his long legs eating up the distance between them until she was forced to crane her neck to glare up at him. His lips were a thin pale line cut across his granite jaw, and this close she could see that he had forgotten to shave that morning, without her customary reminder.

He shook his head slowly, angry red blotches spreading across his cheeks and running hot beneath his open collar.

"You've no bloody right, Hermione."

The words whipped across her like a slap, and she could feel her breath coming faster as she struggled to hold her ground.

"Don't I? I believe I have every right, Ron! After all, I _am _your—"

She stuttered to a grinding halt, caught by the flash of warning in his eyes. He didn't want her to say the word. Girlfriend. It was such a weak and trivial term. He had been avoiding the word for months now, nearly wincing when it was forced upon him.  
>She felt her lower lip begin to tremble, his eyes immediately focusing there as if hypnotized. She drew a deep breath before trying again.<p>

"I have _every_right. I thought that we had resolved this issue with our previous discussion, and I—"

He made a rude noise, running his free hand through already mussed hair as his eyes widened in disbelief.

"Discussion! Is that what you call it? Bleedin' inquisition, more like! Not much discussion to be had when a bloke can't get a word in edgewise!"

She dipped her chin sharply in a semblance of a nod.

"Alright. If you feel so sorely abused, here's your chance to get in a few words before I leap down your throat like the harpy you so obviously believe me to be."

He had the good grace to look a bit ashamed at that, his eyes softening around the edges as they came to rest on her face.

"Look, you know I don't—I'm not tryin' to—" He blew out a disgusted breath, clearly warring with himself as he sometimes did when the words wouldn't come out properly.

"This is _important_, Hermione. It's a dead important mission, and my superiors need to see me jump on it. I have to show some dedication or they'll think I'm not—"

"Dedication!"

She felt lifted by the force of her indignation, no longer small and frail before him as she nearly rose on her toes, her pointed finger jabbing against the immovable wall of his chest.

"And I suppose that your dedication to your job outweighs your dedication to all of _this_!"

She swept her arm in an exaggerated gesture encompassing herself and their flat, her eyes daring him to deny her.

His brow furrowed, arms shooting out to gesture along with her, nearly slinging his half-eaten apple against the wall.

"What has that got to do with anything? You know how I feel about _all of this_, and you can't possibly accuse me of anything less than fanatic devotion, as well you know it!"

She settled back on her heels, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"You're not going on this mission. It is too dangerous, and I'm not having it!"

"Of course it's dangerous! I'm an Auror, for Merlin's sake, not a fucking sales clerk! I thought we'd been through all this before. You knew what you were in for when we decided to get the flat. You knew once I finished training I'd have to go on more important missions."

"Oh! Why must important always be synonymous with dangerous? According to you and Harry, the two words are one and the same! Well, this time I'm putting my foot down. I want you to tell Harry that you're not going to take this one."

"You can put your foot wherever you'd like. I'm leaving tomorrow and that's that."

With that eloquent rebuttal he turned and walked away, throwing his apple into the rubbish bin with such force that it nearly tipped over, wobbling about on its metal base.

Hermione fought back tears, taking a steadying breath before following him to the bedroom where she could hear him tossing things about angrily.

The fucking satchel wouldn't shut. Not like he should be surprised that things weren't going his way. In fact, he'd have been shocked down to his toes if something did manage to go as planned.

Hermione had been in a strop for days, ever since he had told her that he and Harry were thinking of volunteering for the next big mission that came through. This one had grabbed their attention immediately, a small string of attacks on muggleborns near Wales. He and Harry took every muggleborn case that came their way, something inside of them rising and roaring to protect.

But Hermione... she didn't seem to understand that it was all for her. Every bit of it. Yeah, he wanted to progress in his job, to gain recognition and respect, but part of that was because he wanted _her_recognition and respect as well.

He wanted to be a man she could be proud of. Auror Ron Weasley. Not Harry Potter's best mate, not Hermione Granger's… boyfriend. Ugh, he hated that word. It didn't seem to work anymore, it was a concept too small to contain the true nature of their relationship. That was one of the reasons he had to start taking on more important missions. Getting a solid foothold into his Auror work could eventually land him that promotion he had been waiting for before he could take the proper steps to exchange that word for another with greater meaning.

He leaned onto the leather satchel, pressing his knee into the top as he struggled with the zip. Small hands covered his and he nearly jumped, so consumed with his thoughts that he hadn't heard her come in. Only she could have that kind of effect on him. He was an Auror for fuck's sake. Being aware of his surroundings was something he was trained for.

When he was around Hermione, it sometimes became difficult to be aware of anything else. She filled up all of the space in his heart and mind until there wasn't room for other things.

"Let me."

He backed away from the Auror regulation satchel he had flung onto the bed, watching her sigh and shake her head as she opened it to find his belongings crammed in willy-nilly. She always packed like she was taking inventory, everything numbered and tallied and put in its proper place. He took a more chaotic approach to the task.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched her remove his things from the satchel and begin to sort through it all in expressive silence, methodically organizing everything into neat piles on the bed.

She stopped once his belongings were laid out in an even grid, looking a bit lost as she stared at her handiwork. Something that had been coiled tight within Ron's chest released with a painful snap as her shoulders started to shake, her arms wrapped around herself as though to hold it in.

His own, longer arms were around her before his next breath, his hands stroking though her hair and down her back as she sobbed against his shoulder.

He pulled back, lifting her face with a gentle finger beneath her chin until she met his eyes.

"Hermione, I-"

"Y-y-you've f-forgotten to p-pack any s-s-s-socks!"

Her last word was spoken as a great wail before she buried her face tight against him once more. His lips almost twitched into a smile, but instantly subdued themselves. He had never been able to smile when she was upset like this. The muscles just wouldn't work properly or something.

"I'm sorry."

Now she reared back, tears forgotten as delicate eyebrows loomed murderously over red-rimmed brown eyes. He shook his head quickly, refusing to relinquish his hold on her as she tried to move away.

"No, I mean it. Not about the blasted socks, but about, y'know... the rest of it. I should've at least given you a chance to talk to me these last few days. And I really wish that I could explain things better, that I could tell you exactly why this mission is so important to me, but you know that I can't always talk about my work."

She nodded slowly, her eyes roaming somewhere in the region of his chin as her hands began to absently stroke his sides, sliding beneath his best shirt. He had dressed up a bit for today's meeting, he wanted to make a good impression and putting on new store-bought clothes still gave him a tiny boost of confidence.

Her hands against his skin sent tremors reverberating through him, from the inside out and back again. The air around them shifted suddenly, the electric charge left over from their stormy row taking on a different quality.

He looked down into her face to find her staring up at him, glossy brown eyes devouring him in waiting silence. A slight bend of his knees and she flew upwards to meet him, her lips damp with tears crushed against his.

She hooked both legs expertly around his waist, leaving his hands free to burrow in her hair as he pressed desperate little kisses across her face and neck, mumbling apologies into her fragrant skin. She responded in kind until their words became so entangled that they gave up on speech, focused instead on conveying everything with increasingly hungry eyes and lips and skin.

She was still wearing her simple work dress, and he wasted no time attacking the zip, his hands greedily exploring each new inch of creamy skin as it was revealed to him. A practiced flick of his wrist and her bra came undone as well, straps sliding down her shoulders with the sleeves of her dress until she pulled her arms away one at a time to shrug out of the constraining fabric.

Arms that wound about his neck and shoulders, flowing over muscles tensed with concentration. All of the heat that had been building inside of them in the long days of silence and bitter rowing gained new focus as they poured themselves into one another, that heat now pulsating between their bodies with growing urgency.

Four fumbling steps until her back was against the wall, his knuckles pressed into the faded paint as he urged her to arch for him, lifting her gorgeous tits to his eager lips. Lips that burned a damp, swirling trail around each tightly budded tip until her fingers fisted in his hair, instructing and commanding him in the way that only she ever could. And of course he obeyed, worshipping her flesh with tongue and lips and teeth as her head thrashed against the wall, his name a curse and prayer in shouts and whispers that blended together into a familiar, compelling message.

He straightened slowly, letting his tongue drag a lingering trail from her tits to waiting lips as his hands cupped beneath her round arse, lifting her until she was just _there_against him. The sweet pressure of her against his aching cock offered no relief, instead inciting him to greater madness as he pulled at her plump bottom lip with his teeth, swallowing her gasp of welcoming surprise.

Soft hands pushed his shirt down his arms until he was forced to shrug out of it, his hips keeping her pinned against the wall until his hands returned. Large, rough hands that he allowed to wander up the length of her thighs to reach beneath the dampened edge of her knickers, shoving the cloth aside impatiently. She moaned into his mouth, sucking greedily on his tongue as he let his fingers gently explore feminine peaks and valleys slick with need. For him.

The heat reached a boiling point, rational thought cast to the side as she became everything in his world, the touch and taste and scent of her engulfing him entirely.

Her hands grasped at his arms, nails digging in as he ripped his belt open, lowering his zip and freeing himself in one swift motion, his cock throbbing with anticipation. Hermione made that sweet noise in the back of her throat as she rubbed herself against his pulsing tip, both of them gasping at the contact.

He held tightly to her hips, lowering her enough that he could sink into her with one hard thrust, locking their eyes together as they paused for a tenth of a moment, the calm before the storm.

Her eyes sparked at him and they were pounding into one another, her hips rising to meet him as her shoulders strained against the wall, precise fingertips branding the muscles of his broader shoulders with ancient messages of pride and possession.

The silken grip of her flesh around his grew dangerously gratifying, so he tilted her hips to fit himself against her at just the right angle, the one that made her scream with animal satisfaction as he thrust steadily, bringing her up to the precipice before flinging her over it by letting his teeth sink gently into that sweet spot at the base of her neck.

Her body shuddered and flared with an overwhelming rush of their collective heat, clutching at him rhythmically as he spilled himself helplessly into her, his final thrusts slamming her hips against the wall, pinning her there as they settled into ardent stillness.

Only their labored breathing broke the silence as he lowered her gently to the floor, steadying her when her knees quivered, pulling her with him to collapse on the bed. A good portion of his carefully stacked belongings bounced onto the floor, but neither of them cared as they curled into one another.

Several blessed minutes passed before either could gather the energy to move or speak, Ron's fingers lazily untangling the mess of curls tucked securely beneath his chin.

Hermione felt boneless, languid after having lost the fierce tension that had been holding her spine rigid and unbending for the last few days.

The fear was still present, but the fury had abated, leaving her clinging to him for the moments they had left.

He was leaving tomorrow. There was nothing she could do to stop him.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She could make him stay, if she truly needed to. She knew that now.  
>Gone was the sick sensation in the pit of her stomach whenever she watched him walk away from her. Now she knew, in the core of her heart, that he would always, <em>always<em>return to her. As long as he was able.

She also knew that it was perhaps a bit ridiculous of her to become so upset when he entered into potentially dangerous situations, given their history. But she simply couldn't help it. Everything was different now that she wasn't there along with them. There to help and protect and occasionally reign in Ron and Harry's mad impulsiveness. She didn't miss the fighting, but she missed the instant assurance of seeing them safe and free from harm the moment danger had passed.

Now she played a waiting game, sitting alone in their flat by the fireplace with the windows open no matter the weather, just in case a Floo call or Owl came her way.  
>Ginny seemed to fare better, but she was used to waiting, being left behind while Harry placed himself in harm's way over and over again.<p>

Hermione's hand ran up the pale ridges of Ron's stomach, pressing against the center of his chest, his heartbeat throbbing in her fingertips as she brushed her lips over the sweat-slicked skin of his shoulder.

He shifted, pulling them both further up the bed until his head hit the pillow, shoving her the rest of carefully organized packing to the floor in a tangled heap. She found that she could not have cared less. One big freckled hand caressed her bottom, running down her leg to pull her knee over him until she was splayed across his torso.

"Alright there, love?"

His voice rumbled through her, his hand brushing a curl away from her cheek as she looked up into his clear blue eyes. She nodded silently, raising her head to nibble at the ginger stubble decorating his chin.

"Mmm. Forgot to shave. Sorry."

She smiled at him, climbing up to place a wet, smacking kiss on the tip of his nose, between two large freckles.

"Don't be."

The grins on both of their faces froze, dimming as their casual banter opened doors to deeper thoughts.

Hermione kissed the worry line that formed between his eyebrows, pushing his fringe to the side.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I know that your job is very important, and I admire your passion for it as much as I admire your skill. I suppose that you think I've been a rather silly cow for getting fussed over this mission, but you must know that I worry for you. And I-I just don't know what I would do if you were ever-"

One gentle fingertip pressed to her lips, the hard-earned calloused edges sweet and familiar against her skin.

"I won't. I promise. I'll be back home to you the second I get the chance, Hermione. Besides, Harry'll be there to look after me!"

She rolled her eyes, puffing a loud breath at the lock of hair that dangled in her eyes.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of!"

His fingers wiggled expertly against her sides, his exclamation of "Oh, is it, now?" accompanied by loud, wet raspberries on her neck until she begged for mercy in gasping breaths through the laughter.

His fingers ceased their wiggling, but he only held her tighter against him, his face still buried in her neck as they caught their breath. She called his name quietly, inquiringly as he didn't let her go.

"Ron?"

"Bye lurff ooh"

She laughed again, pushing his head back until his nose and mouth were no longer buried against her.

"Pardon?"

That sweet, slow grin spread across his face, the one that only spread for her, the one that she treasured and longed for most when he was away.

"I said 'I love you'."

She bit her lip, letting her answer shine in her eyes as she watched that grin reach its full potential, his entire face lighting up for her.

"I have a brilliant plan."

She couldn't help smiling, he always had that effect on her when that impish light suffused his eyes.

"Hmm. Well, if it's a _brilliant_plan, then I suppose that I should hear it straightaway, shouldn't I?"

He nodded with mock seriousness, his hands beginning to caress the skin of her back.

"Oh, certainly. Y'see, we're taking the train this time, and I should have the length of the journey to catch up on sleep..."

His hands swept lower on her back, cupping her rear boldly as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"What exactly are you suggesting, Ron?"

She kept her face serious as she rubbed her breasts against him, earning a smirk and a light swat on her backside.

"Well, my plan involves making sure that I really _need_to catch up on my sleep."

She nodded sagely, sitting up on his stomach as she tapped her chin in thought.

"I see. I believe that I could facilitate that particular goal."

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood to remove her soaked knickers and the dress that had become twisted and bunched around her waist, Ron quickly following by removing the rest of his clothes, his belt buckle clanking against the wall as he disposed of his trousers enthusiastically.

She shot him a glance over her shoulder as she walked around the bed, stooping to pick something off the floor before climbing back on the mattress, making her way to him on her knees with her prize tucked behind her back.

"Oi, what've you got there?"

She shook her head, ducking his hands and scooting back out of reach as he grabbed for her from his seat propped against the iron headboard.  
>She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking at him pointedly.<p>

"Close your eyes."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with one raised eyebrow and he obediently closed both mouth and eyes, waiting patiently as she resumed her slow approach.

"Now lie down."

He wriggled down flat on the mattress, eyes screwed tightly shut. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as she encircled both of his wrists with her fingers, lifting them above his head. Straddling his chest, she reached for the length of silk she had dropped on the bed, securing his wrists to the thick iron bar at the base of their headboard.

His eyes flew open, head twisting to look up at her handiwork.

"That's my tie, isn't it? I just bought that last week!"

She nodded, giving her knots one more tug to pull them tight.

"Yes. And now I'm putting it to good use."

He opened his mouth to argue and she took advantage, swooping down to capture his lips in a long, drugging kiss. She pulled away the moment he moaned into her mouth, his head rising to follow her and his arms jerking against his bindings as though he had forgotten they were there. She sat up, kneeling beside him as he watched her with heavy-lidded eyes, his lower lip moments away from a pout.

She smoothed one fingertip over that lip, gasping in surprise as he pulled it into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin. His eyes flashed at her as she dragged her finger down the clean lines of his throat to trace over his chest and stomach, connecting freckles in a design so intriguing that she decided to follow it with her mouth.

He was still and quiet beneath her until she circled his navel with her tongue, his hips instantly jerking in reaction. She looked up at him to find those blue eyes burning down at her, pink tongue wetting his lips as she met his gaze.

"Tell me what you want, Ron."

His eyes widened, a surprised flush spreading across his cheeks. She rested her own cheek against his stomach, idly stroking his sides as he looked down at her, his mouth working silently.

Hermione was almost surprised, herself. She wasn't usually like... this. She secretly loved the way he slipped into foul language when he couldn't control himself, and he knew it, but she had never prompted him like this. His flush grew deeper, his ears burning red as she continued to wait quietly. He cleared his throat, his voice a bit rough regardless.

"You know."

She shook her head slowly, letting her curls drag over his skin as she moved lower to press little kisses on the freckles above his hipbones.

"I'm afraid that I don't. You're going to have to tell me."

His mouth hung open in disbelief, his eyes glued to her mouth as she continued to sip at his skin lightly, running her hands down the outer edges of his thighs and back up to his hips, thumbs circling slowly. He swallowed visibly, throat bobbing as his hands gripped the iron bars.

"Put-put it in your mouth."

She smiled, letting him catch the wicked glint in her eye before dipping her head to suck one jutting hipbone into her mouth, the smile widening into a grin at his groan of frustration, his hips twisting desperately beneath her.

She lifted her head to blink up at him innocently, eyelashes fluttering.

"That isn't what you meant? I suppose that you'll just have to be a bit more specific, then, won't you?"

He wasn't gaping anymore, his flush darkening as his eyes sparked with the beginnings of irritation. She ducked her head to suck at his other hipbone and he bucked against her with a hoarse shout.

"Fuck! My cock, put my fucking cock in your mouth!"

Hermione nodded up at him, lowering herself on the bed to lay beside his miles of leg.

His breath was coming quickly, his hips rising to meet her as she lay the flat of her tongue against him obediently, dragging it up the long, hard length of him. Closing her lips around him, she bobbed her head a few times before pulling back to meet his eyes, her hand stroking him easily.

He looked wild, his eyes blazing through her as he strained against her bindings, hypnotizing her with the roll of muscles beneath his skin.

"Untie me."

She shook her head, climbing up his body to lay claim to his lips. She pushed back to hover over him, her knees pressed tightly to his smooth flanks.

"Hermione, please."

She took mercy on them both, lowering herself onto him, earning a harsh groan from his lips as she dug her fingers into his shoulders, savoring the sweet slide of him inside of her. He rose to meet her as she began to move, their bodies rushing together in a symphony all their own. Building and rising to a crashing crescendo that left them both panting loudly, Hermione collapsed over his chest in exhaustion.

She mumbled contentedly as he smoothed his hands down her back softly, his hands gentle and-his _hands_!

She sat up to stare at him in consternation, her eyes taking in his free wrists and the tie now hanging uselessly from the headboard. His eyes sparkled up at her from beneath eyebrows raised in silent amusement and self-congratulation.

"Ron, what...?"

He grinned widely, his face reminding her of that little boy she had fallen in love with so many years ago.

"You used Muggle knots. Piece of cake, really. We covered escape from restraint ages ago in Auror training, remember?"

His grin faded a bit as she continued to glare at him, her arms crossing over her chest.

"But, ah... you did a bang-up job. Really. I was definitely incapacitated. For, um, almost an entire minute."

He couldn't quite restrain his grin or the pride in his voice and Hermione felt herself relaxing, laughter bubbling up in her throat as he looked at her hopefully, his hands tugging her back down against him.

As she snuggled into his side, Hermione felt safe and calm, finally able to face the fact that he would be leaving on this mission. That he would be careful and clever and do everything in his power to come right back to her. That she couldn't ask for more than that.

"I love you."

He grunted in response, his hands answering for him by softening their touch in her hair, running down her arm to pull her fingers to his lips.

She let her eyes fall shut, not caring that there was packing still to be done. For this moment she had him here with her, this man that she was so very proud to call her own.

For this moment, that was enough.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reviewing!<strong>


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